


Unrequited

by orphan_account



Series: Danplan/ActuallyOddPlan Oneshots— :3 [4]
Category: DanPlan, actuallyoddplan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ivu is mentioned, Just both of them in this so yeah, Light Angst, M/M, light fluff and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Night markets aren’t so great after all.Oneshot.Where Stephen loses all his self-worth, and Hosuh’s as clueless as ever.
Relationships: Hosuh Lee/Stephen Ng, Ivu | Zerinchii/Hosuh Lee
Series: Danplan/ActuallyOddPlan Oneshots— :3 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612840
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Unrequited

Hosuh and Stephen stroll the night streets. The night markets are loud, bright, and Hosuh laughs as Stephen does something stupid, like scoffing down twenty fishballs at once, not choking.

“Bet you five you’d choke.”

“Bet.”

Seven sticks later, and Stephen’s finished them all with none of them stuck in his throat.

“Damn.” Hosuh pouts, then flips the five-dollar note at the other.

“Thanks.” Stephen smirks and pockets it.

They walk still further. They yell when they score a point at a game stall. They laugh when Stephen tries to trick hapless passers-by into doing things for them.

The hightlight, though, is when Hosuh decides he has enough of night chaos.

“Come on, let’s go someplace else!” Hosuh smiles brightly like a hundred-watt lightbulb, and he never catches the wild blush that spread prominently over the tanned skin on the younger’s face. Stephen’s heart skips a thousand at minute just at the soft kind voice, and he lets Hosuh lead him to the much quieter park nearby, away from the hubbub.

“I’m actually so glad you came with me, Hosuh.” He sticks his hands in their tight jean pockets and leans his poise backwards.

“No problem! After all, I like you!” Hosuh chirps brightly. “You’re such a good friend!”

His words lead his spirits, and it is amazing how two separate sentences would push them so high and then dunk them down into lava.

“S-sure,” Stephen stutters, looking down.

“Anyway, I wanted to talk-or rather confide in you with something, y’know? I don’t have anyone else to tell.” Hosuh fidgets with his fingers. His hand, compared to the other’s, was normal-sized to slender long fingers, yet every single twitch of his fingers captivated Stephen. He’d come to terms that he is definitely not straight as he’d supposed, but rather Hosuh-sexual, a gentle pull from the smaller but older other, a gravitational force he was all too pleased to abide by. Something about this man, the gentle voice, the sweet words, the laughs, his smile, is something Stephen loved and would protect.

He has a rather obvious crush on Hosuh Lee, but Hosuh Lee never notices. It’s bittersweet, but he takes it in his stride (albeit barely).

“Of course! Of course,” Stephen rushes, then slows to appear more nonchalant.

“It’s about my cru-sh.” Hosuh taps his index fingertips together.

“Ivu’s so awesome— I can barely even look at her! I...”

His heart stops completely at those words. The universe stops. His universe stops. Everyone else’s universes are still spinning, Hosuh’s fastest of all, and he’s never going to catch up.

The blood drops from his brain, and dizziness sets in. He stops suddenly and holds his head.

“What’s the matter?” Hosuh’s words ricochet, far away. So far away. There’s a barrier that’s too high to climb, too wide to demolish.

He’s naive to ever think that Hosuh would ever like him. Hosuh, angel, delicate, god-like? No. He could never like someone like him, because he simply isn’t good enough to present himself in front of his eyes. He’s too abnormal to even be his friend, even, too very pan, obvious enough for passers-by to sneak him a second glance when they think he isn’t looking.

It hurts his head.

He squats down, his hands through his hair, raking the mounds of sweat.

“Stephen?”

No.

He just isn’t good enough. He knows this. Hosuh knows this. Everyone knows this.

_I’m not good enough._

All that wasn’t good enough, the small moments he spent laughing and playing with Hosuh, the times when they comforted each other, the times they texted each other for hours. Of course it wasn’t. Everyone told him he is never enough.

He’s never believed it until now.

Cause now it’s the _truth_.

“Stephen!”

_Why can’t you see me?_

_Why can’t you?_

He runs.

The wind tousles his hair roughly and blurs out all sound, all awareness, only the steady thump of his feet on dirt ground and the whip of the strings of his hoodie. It drowns out all feeling, but he hears the quietest “wait!” the voice of him, and the tears that leave cold tracks in their path’s wake.

And the tears evaporate all feeling left in his body.


End file.
